In Need Of
by AJCrane
Summary: . . . A Father. It is one year after the death of John and Mary Grayson. Dick hasn't had a chance to mourn their deaths. He makes a decision that has him ending up in the wrong hands and a frantic Bruce must find Dick in time or lose him forever. Violence: Some, though at the level of the 60's show.
1. Chapter 1

In Need Of . . .

By AJ

. . . A Father

Part 1

"I try, but it's hard. It's almost year. I don't know if I can do this, but I must. I'm turning 11 in a few days, and yet, I don't know if I can face it without them. I got a package from the Haly Circus today. They found several things in the trailer that we used as our home away from home. I guess when everything happened I didn't have a chance to take anything with me, just the clothes on my back. The box was pretty large. Haven't opened it yet. Seeing that label just got me thinking about Mom and Dad. Why did they leave me? They didn't leave me, they were taken from me."

Dick Grayson wrote in his journal, something that he started ever since he learned to write. His parents had encouraged him to do it. It was a way for him to remember every place they would travel to for the circus, ever since he could remember. And somewhere along the way, he stopped, after his parents had been murdered. What no one knew was that it was the day before his 10th birthday when it happened. And with his guardian Bruce Wayne, everything seemed so unreal. Within hours after his parent's deaths, he was taken by Batman, not only for his own protection, but to aid him in fighting Tony "Boss" Zucco. He begged Batman to train him so he could avenge his parents' deaths. Batman reluctantly agreed and then he was standing in front of a table that held nothing but a lighted candle, and swearing to fight crime and to stay on the path of right. Then the next thing he knew he was going to court and Bruce Wayne was asking to adopt him, but the court had denied his petition. Somehow he had managed within that time to get permission from a relative on his Mother's side, and that relative had said yes, but the court only allowed Bruce to become his guardian. He knew very little about the man other than the fact he was Batman and that he had lost his parents to violence as well. The next thing Dick knew Bruce and he were attending his parents' double funeral in a cemetery in Newtown. The circus left town the day before, without a word.

"Bruce stood right by my side with his hand on my shoulder," Dick Grayson added to his journal. "I don't remember crying. I just remember seeing their faces, and their bodies lying there in the sawdust, and the blood. I mostly remember the rage that I felt. I held it in as long as I could. Right after the funeral, I began training, first showing Bruce what I knew. It felt great to be up on that trapeze, but it was also bittersweet. There was no one to catch me if I fell. I didn't know if Bruce would."

Dick stopped writing, looking at the words. He still didn't know if Bruce would catch him, this time meaning something totally different. Over the past year, Bruce taught him about criminology and that being a detective was just as important as being a fighter. Being able to solve a mystery to know who committed the crime and how, was just as valuable a skill as it was to fight the thugs who were committing the crime at that moment. And yet, Dick could not help recalling, Bruce's words during those first crucial hours when they were together.

"I can't replace your parents. From what everyone was saying about them, they were good people. I will guide you in whatever way that I can."

"I didn't quite understand what he meant," Dick wrote. "Though we've been able to work together, live together, something's missing."

Dick closed his journal and turned out the light, even though he could not sleep. School was out for the summer, which was a new thing for him. He started school mid semester, having to catch up with everyone else. It wasn't hard since he proved to be a very apt student, but at the same time, it took a lot of getting used to, being in a classroom setting. And he had to face a new situation, being bullied, and not being able to fight back without revealing his secret identity. He tried to talk to Alfred about it, but Alfred told him just to ignore the boys. They would eventually come around and see Dick as one of them, but that didn't work. He tried to talk to Bruce, but all Bruce did was remind him what might happen if he did fight back. Even so, his secret identity as Robin was starting to get attention.

Dick recalled after they had taken down Zucco, Bruce started over with his training, trying to teach him that rage could get him killed, if he did not channel it. If ever he felt rage, Bruce told Dick that he needed to work it out another way. He limited his time out in the field, treating it as another training exercise, until Robin could fight without feeling the rage that could cause him to make mistakes, or to channel it so if he did feel the rage, he would still keep a cool head. Time then seemed to fly by, and he was once again going out on patrol more, proving that he could handle himself well and not let the rage get the better of him, but at the same time, something was missing.

Then, two weeks ago, things started going down hill, and Dick didn't know why, not at first. He was having nightmares, waking up in a cold sweat with tears running down his face. He didn't understand what was going on, and Bruce seemed oblivious to his plight, though in truth, Dick hadn't really told him much, just that he was having trouble sleeping.

"Anxious about an upcoming exam?" Bruce had asked. "You'll do fine."

But that wasn't it. Suddenly the images in his nightmares became clearer, seeing the faces of his parents, over and over. And then he was seeing Bruce, turning away from him, away as if rejecting him. Batman loomed, but this time, Batman's face was stony and terrible to look at, as if he was the one who committed the crime and Batman was his judge. Even Alfred showed up in his dreams. His face had none of the gentleness that was part of his make-up. It held nothing but cool distain for the orphaned circus performer, as if he was in trouble for something he had done, but did not know what it was. There was no warmth, as if all the love had evaporated with the death of his parents.

Looking at the calendar, he realized what it was that was coming up. It was then that Dick realized he had not really mourned their deaths, had not really said a proper goodbye. Oh, he stood at their funeral, even watched as they covered his parents' coffins with dirt, but at the time, he had not really mourned their deaths. He raged inside, like a storm ready to break.

The day loomed closer and his heart became more anxious. He needed to do something, to remember that day, but also to really mourn. And after everything he had been through what he really wanted, he could not have, or thought he could not have, because of what Bruce had said, and what Dick believed were the words behind his statement. A deep sadness engulfed him and then a resolve. He knew what he had to do. Going down into the bat cave, Dick plugged in his question into the bat computer and got an answer. Then he plugged it into the directory to see where in relation he was from where he needed to go. Newtown was three miles outside of Gotham almost a suburb, but it was 20 miles north from the Wayne Estate, and the nearest road to Newtown was still five miles. It would take him most of the night, and a good part of the next day. He had at least a couple more days to decide if that was what he wanted. He shut off the electronic directory and took the punch cards with him as he left the bat cave.

"Did you finish your research?" Alfred asked as he came out of Bruce's study.

"Yes, Alfred."

"Good. Dinner should be ready soon"

"Isn't Bruce home yet?"

"He called while you were in the bat cave. An emergency meeting had been called at Wayne Foundation. He will not be home until real late."

Going back up to his room, he placed the information on his desk, trying to decide what to do next. There was still time, and he hadn't opened the box that he received. Dick pulled out a small penknife and ran it along the tape sealing the box. He opened the flaps and the first thing he saw was a bunch of newspapers, which he removed. Inside he found several notebooks, which turned out to be his journals that he kept. He was glad they hadn't been lost. Removing the journals, he found another layer of items underneath, some of them were papers that both his father and mother kept and he would have to go through them later. Removing the papers, he found an old stuffed animal, a tiger that Pop Haly had given him when he was real small. There was also a scrapbook of photos and cards. He flipped through those and his eyes locked on a few of them, trying to recall his parents' faced before their untimely deaths, before they were murdered. As he removed each item, the images of his parents came into view. When he got close to the bottom, his hands hesitated before they reached in. The red and green costumes glared out at him. He carefully removed them then noticed several colorfully wrapped boxes in the bottom, birthday gifts, for a birthday party that had not taken place because of what happened. His eyes returned to the costumes folded neatly on the floor next to him. His hands brushed the fabric. His was on top. He removed it and found his mother's; it was filled with creases. His nose twitched as he caught a scent that he had not smelled since that night. He brought the fabric up to his face and breathed in the scent. He could still smell his mother's favorite perfume, jasmine with a hint of vanilla. His father's costume was on the bottom. He picked it up as well and also smelled his father's aftershave. Clear as day, their faces blossomed in his mind and he remembered their last day together. He could feel their love as tangible as the cloth he held in his hands. And he knew what was missing. Without a second thought, Dick left the contents of the box scattered on the floor, then picked up the punch cards on his desk. He grabbed a backpack, a flashlight from the shelf in his room, and a light jacket. Without another word, he silently moved down the stairs and walked out the door.

Continues with Part 2


	2. Chapter 2

In Need Of . . .

By AJ

. . . A Father

Part 2

Dick raced down the driveway and out the gates of the Wayne Estate. He was grateful that someone had left the gates open. The need that was driving him right now wouldn't have stopped him. He would have leapt over the gates if he could. And it was a need. He had to find his parent's graves, had to say goodbye, even if they couldn't hear him. After that, he didn't know what would happen. It's not like he didn't care for Bruce, he was Batman's partner after all, but it seemed that Bruce was another story. He really didn't know who he was to Bruce. He knew that Bruce was at least his guardian, and when he turned . . . what did the judge at the court say? It wasn't until Dick turned 20, that Bruce's responsibility would end. A knot formed in his stomach that he hadn't felt before. Did that mean that his partnership with Batman would also end? He didn't want to think about that. All he wanted was to find his parents' graves.

'It doesn't seem real,' he thought. 'That they're gone. Oh, I know that they are, but I guess I have to see that grave for myself.'

Dick took out a small instrument that he had placed in his backpack. It was a compass that Bruce had given him for Christmas.

"It's for those times if you get lost you can find your way," Bruce had said.

Newtown was due North of Wayne Manor, and Dick made sure he was pointed in the right direction. Even with the sun down, all he would have to do is turn on his flashlight and check the compass to know if he was heading in the right direction. At least it was June and it wouldn't be dark until after 9:00 pm. If he was lucky, he could make it down to the highway that ran to Newtown and he might be able to catch a ride. Though both his parents and Bruce warned him about getting into a car with strangers, Dick was certain he would be fine. Even so, he debated with himself about the merits. It might get him to Newtown sooner, but in truth, he left one thing behind that he didn't have, and that was money. Even if he received a ride, he didn't have anything to repay that person. He was also going to need a place to stay, and in order to stay at that place, he would also have to pay, which he would not be able to do.

'So, looks like I'll be camping out,' Dick thought. 'At least it's not raining. I can sleep in a tree for safety.' Dick thought about the time when he was six and down in their winter home. The days were warm and the nights were cool. He built a tent in their small backyard and he wanted to sleep in it. That night though it had rained and he came in the house soaking wet. Dick caught a cold that lasted for several days. After that, his parents wouldn't let him sleep in the backyard again.

Thinking about his parents spurred Dick onward, though by the time he reached the highway, his feet were sore from walking, and the sun had gone down. The night was beginning to blanket everything. He didn't realize just how dark everything could get. He looked up to see a sea of stars, though it was still twilight, and the edge of the western horizon, if he could see it through the trees, still had a sliver of light. That would be gone within an hour and night would truly be upon him. Dick could see that the moon had not risen yet, or was it going to be a new moon tonight. He could not remember what Bruce had said to him about checking for the moon. It would make a difference out on patrol on whether to wear night goggles for those areas that were in deep shadow. A full moon could fill a night with light; a new moon could deepen the darkest shadow.

Dick knew he reached the highway when he saw a car coming in his direction, its headlights bright as it came closer. The car passed him without slowing. He watched as the red taillights turned away from him, following a curve that moved eastward. Dick's memories were sketchy at best when he and Batman first met. It was within two hours after his parents' murder, and right after he had overheard Tony Zucco and his right hand man Blade threatening Pop Haly. He remembered getting into a large black car that the Batman was driving, and that was all. He hadn't paid attention to the road, because he was so filled with rage. He kept his head down the whole time, trying to persuade the Batman the need to avenge he parents' murder. The next thing he knew the car entered a cave and he was climbing out, still trying to convince Batman that he wanted to fight crime. Then he was asked to say an oath and afterward, Batman revealed his true identity. It had been so unreal.

Dick looked at his wristwatch and saw that it was nearly 10:30. He had come a long ways since he left the manner around 6:00 pm. He was starting to get weary and he needed to stop and sleep, but before he did, he wanted to go a little further, this time following the road. He felt the rough asphalt under his feet and soon he was just as footsore, but he didn't let that stop him. Cars would pass him in either direction, but he made no move to flag anyone down, simply for the fact that the cars closest to him were coming out of Newtown while he was heading to the small city.

Dick thought about the first time they arrived in Newtown. It was their last stop on their tour before they would move across the country and back to their winter home. The train arrived in the middle of the night, as it always would. They had less than 12 hours to set everything up. They moved everything off the train with precision, making sure that everything was in place, the supply wagons, the animal wagons, and the wagons that housed the performers for the two weeks they would appear. It would be their longest stay anywhere. They set up their tents in a field just outside of town at the fairgrounds with the help of the elephants, trained to do the heavy lifting of the poles that not only supported the big top tent, but supported the rigging for the Ariel acts, specifically the trapeze. Dick remembered helping with setting up the seats when the wracks were put into place. He remembered helping his dad testing the rigging for their trapeze to make sure there wasn't any damage. And then he remembered the parade. Oh that was such a sight, sitting on the trapeze as his parents stood beside him, and waving at the crowds. Oh how he missed it. Maybe he should have returned to the circus, but it was too late now. Everything that he ever knew was gone. Plodding along, Dick's eyes started to water, then the tears slowly tracked down his cheeks. He would have many more thoughts along his path before he was done.

Soon Dick grew tired. He took out his flashlight and looked around. There were some bushes off to the side of the road, not far from where he stood. He moved in that direction and crawled under their canopy. Taking off his backpack, he used it as a pillow. He threw his jacket over his shoulders to use as a blanket and he soon fell asleep, but he would get little rest. His dreams were once again haunting him. The faces of his parents smiling as they performed, the love that they had for each other, and for him, and then the sudden surprise and then terror as they both fell to their deaths, the love gone from his world. Dick started crying in his sleep, and when he woke, there were tears streaming down his face. For now, he couldn't go back to sleep, so he gathered his belongings, walked back down to the road, checked his compass and started walking again. He walked till he couldn't walk any more. He soon saw the lights from Newtown in the distance and knew he would soon be there. His stomach was telling him he was hungry. He reached into his backpack and pulled out an apple that he stored there as a snack. It wasn't much, but it would give him the energy he needed to keep going. A familiar sound came closer and Dick realized it was a car that he knew all too well. He swiftly moved away from the road and moved back into the underbrush and found a boulder to hide behind. It was still dark enough to hide his presence, and he watched the car speed by toward Newtown. He felt guilty for hiding, but he didn't want to be found right now. He knew Bruce would take him back before he would have a chance to say a proper goodbye.

Dick decided at this point he would have to stay away from the road, but keep the road in sight. He had his compass to aid him and Newtown in the distance to make him stay on track. He didn't know how much further it was to the city limits and if he would see that particular car again. Hopefully, he was far enough away and into the tree line that the driver would not spot him. Within an hour he approached a small river. There was no path on the bridge to walk it safely, so Dick climbed down the bank to find a way to cross. Then he heard the sound of the familiar car again, and he moved under the bridge to keep from being seen. As soon as the car passed and was out of sight, Dick climbed back up to the road and crossed the bridge. He remained along the road again for another hour or two then once again tried to get some sleep under some bushes. This time, he did sleep, and woke when the sun rose in the east, warming him. It was going to be another hot day. He would have to be careful for the heat and try to stay under cover where it was shady. It wasn't going to be easy. Within another two hours, he was within the city limits, but still along the outer edges of the town. His next move, find the cemetery where his parents were buried. How hard could it be?

Continues with Part 3


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N_

_I changed the part of Dick's reflecting on Bruce's behavior. I was thinking about the time of year, which should have been in the winter. My thinking on this is that Bruce gets angry around the time of his parents' deaths and he is imagining fighting Joe Chill. He zones out, forgetting that Dick is even in the room, or even sparring with him. Bruce's face takes on this terrible, frightening look, rather dark and stony, which frightens Dick, but eventually Dick learns to avoid Bruce during those times. This is within the first year of them being together. Damn, I noticed the a KFTLC Chapter ended being put in place of this one. Hopefully, the correction has been made.  
_

XXX

In Need Of . . .

By AJ

. . . A Father

Part 3

Arriving on the outskirts of Newtown, Dick realized he didn't know which cemetery his parents had been buried in. His mind had been in a total fog that day. If it hadn't been for Bruce, he wouldn't even had known that a double funeral had even taken place. All he could see was how his parents died. Dick remembered once again how Bruce stuck to his side, making certain that he sat in the right place, guiding him through what was needed. He also remembered there were a lot of photographers there, trying to get a picture of the grief stricken orphan. He vaguely remembered someone commenting, 'Why doesn't he cry? His parents were killed. Why is he just standing there staring?"

Another said, and he remembered it, "He's probably in shock. He'll cry when he realizes what happened."

'I wasn't in shock," Dick thought. 'I was enraged. I couldn't cry, not then, not in front of everyone staring at me.'

He did remember there were mourners at the funeral, a few from the circus, those that really knew his Mom and Dad, like the big cat trainer, what was his name? Wilhelm Gunther. Jacques and Soose were there, too. Couldn't mistake Sampson, the strongman.

'Pop Haly was there, at least I think so,' Dick thought. 'Everyone must have been there, but I couldn't really be sure. I was told they left town. Maybe it was just the supply train. That had to be packed up first and leave for the next town. Why can't I cry, why does everyone keep staring? I do know that my parents were really loved. My father never said an unkind word about anyone. My mother always had a smile.' Thinking about his parents caused Dick to choke up and tears to form in his eyes. He barely remembered the luncheon given in their honor afterward. And the words that everyone tried to express to him. One statement stuck with him.

"Your parents will be missed. It will never be the same without them. They were loved by all of us."

Dick brushed his hand across his eyes, trying to wipe away the tears that were blurring his vision.

HONK!

"Watch where you're going kid. You're going to get yourself killed."

Dick jumped out of the way just in time. He hadn't realized that his wanderings almost lead him into a street accident. Clearing his head, he walked to a phone booth and thumbed through the telephone directory. He found three cemeteries listed in Newtown. One was reserved for veterans who died in foreign wars. Another was for those who were poor called Poplar Field. The veteran's cemetery he felt he could rule out. His parents on both sides came from a long line of performers. He never heard whether any members of his family had served in the armed forces. He doubted they would have been buried there. And the coffins that Bruce Wayne had provided for his parents weren't just pine boxes. That left only one other, Robinson. It was rather ironic. His mother called him their little bird, and his father told him once that his grandfather called him robin because he wanted so much to fly at an early age, and Dick had followed in his father's footsteps, learning the trapeze at the age of four. He searched for a street sign then looked in the directory for a map to see where the Robinson Cemetery was located. He was in luck. It was only five blocks away, west of his location.

Dick started walking, his chest starting to tighten with the anticipation and anxiety that once he saw their graves, he didn't know what he was going to do. He didn't notice while he'd been walking that it was starting to rain. He hadn't brought an umbrella. He put on his jacket and pulled the hood up to ward off the rain, but it wasn't doing any good. Eventually, he would get soaked, and eventually he would have to find shelter somewhere. He had not planned this exertion very well. Maybe he should have asked Bruce if he could visit his parent's graves, but he was afraid that Bruce would have refused.

Dick thought back on the past several months or so when talking to Bruce, he seemed preoccupied with something. During their training sessions, back in January, Bruce was overly harsh at times, acting like he was a criminal trying to harm him. Dick had sprouted a few extra bruises during those weeks, and even a couple cracked ribs. After their three hour workout session, Bruce demanded that Dick study, even though he had finished with all of his lessons from school, but it wasn't school work that Bruce wanted him to study. Bruce dropped a book on the desk in regards to Morris Code. He wanted him to memorize it and he wanted Dick to memorize it by the end of the week. With the way Bruce had said it, and even sounded, Dick didn't dare question why Bruce needed him to memorize a code that they might not even use. He thought better of it, and realized if either of them were trapped, it could come in handy to try to contact someone for help, so Dick studied hard. When the end of that week came, Bruce tested him on knowing the code. Dick messed up twice when Bruce tried to tap out a message. Bruce wasn't pleased that he had not memorized all of the code correctly. Bruce had said something under his breath that made Dick feel worthless. Dick remembered running from the bat cave back up to the Manor and racing to his room. He buried his face in his pillow and silently let the tears fall. A gentle hand rubbed his back, and Dick turned to see that it was Alfred.

"I could not help hearing that you were upset Master Richard," Alfred had said.

"I . . . didn't do it . . . right," Dick said through his tears. "Bruce said, what good am I."

"He said that?"

"What's the matter with Bruce, Alfred? He seems so angry lately." Dick turned toward Alfred and that's when the old butler noticed the bruise on Dick's cheek.

"Where did you get that?"

"Oh from sparring with Bruce," Dick answered.

"And I take it he got a little too rough," Alfred said.

"Well . . . kind of," Dick answered, not wanting to rat out Bruce. Bruce had been a little rougher than usual. He hit Dick hard and knocked him down, knocking the wind out of him. Dick had to dodge a couple of times when he saw the look on Bruce's face. It was as if he was in some kind of trance, not really seeing Dick, but seeing something else that frightened Dick more than being used as a punching bag. Something had disturbed Bruce, and he didn't realize that Dick wasn't the punching bag that he should have been using to remove his frustrations. Bruce was fine the next day, but Dick sported a very large bruise on his face. When his teachers saw the bruise they became concerned. Dick had other bruises as well, not so visible, but if his teachers knew what he had been up to, they probably would have called social services.

And that's when another memory from the funeral occurred, but it wasn't at the gravesite. It had been at the Manor. It was during the luncheon.

"That boy is going to need a proper family. Knowing Wayne, he'll probably neglect the boy. Playboys should never be fathers. Why did he take the kid in? Wayne's got to be blind. Don't get me wrong, I like the circus, but you'll never get me to take an orphaned kid. They're like gypsies. I bet the kid will rob him blind and skip town as soon as everyone leaves. Better lock up the silver."

Dick had overheard that conversation, shocked that someone would believe that. He didn't know just how wrong he was. He knew the difference between right and wrong. His parents instilled that in him at an early age, ever since he learned to walk, even climb up to the trapeze. He knew what would happen if you stole. There were gypsies and often they were associated with the circus even when they were not. Pop Haly was careful about that. He instilled in his performers that they were there to entertain, nothing more. If he couldn't make money entertaining people, the moment it no longer became a calling, but a job and a chore, he would hang up his ring master's coat and top hat and sell the circus to someone who would.

The memories running through Dick's head were so powerful that Dick at first hadn't noticed that he had arrived at the cemetery entrance. When he looked up, the gates were right in front of him, almost blocking his path.

'Well, I'm here," Dick thought. For a moment he was frozen in place. He almost didn't want to move forward and walk through those gates, but he made a promise, so he swallowed the lump in his throat, opened the pedestrian gate and walked across the threshold.

'Well Mom and Dad, I'm here. Now what?'

Continues with Part 4


	4. Chapter 4

In Need Of . . .

By AJ

. . . A Father

Part 4

'Well Mom and Dad, I'm here. Now what?'

The rain continued to fall lightly. The cemetery was a vast place. The lawn was well maintained. The headstones were in neat wide rows. He could hear the murmur of voices and he looked up to see toward his left a parked procession of about eight cars and a cluster of people gathered around a freshly dug grave under a canopy.

Returning to his own mission, he wondered how was he going to find his parents' graves in such a vast place. The only thing he could remember was that there were two large trees nearby, but he could see that there were several trees throughout the cemetery. Dick started walking down the main road then stopped to look at some of the headstones, especially when there was a tree nearby. As he walked towards the back of the cemetery the road that he was on split, one curving right the other curving left. Dick looked around and then he saw the two trees he was hoping to find. He followed the road curving left and stopped to look at the headstones along the edge. His eyes fell on a very large headstone that had the carving of angel's wings on top and his parents' last name GRAYSON carved across the center in capital letters. His father's name was on the left and his mother's was on the right. A saying had been carved also just about the Grayson name. "They were fliers on Earth, now they fly in Heaven." Someone had placed this marker here, probably Bruce. He had provided the gravesite, the coffins, and now the marker.

'Why didn't Bruce take me to see this?' Dick questioned, but he already knew the answer. 'I've been so busy training and with school, I forgot to ask.'

Dick approached the marker and ran his hands along its surface. The granite was cool to the touch, even in the rain.

'I really didn't dream this. They really are gone,' and in that moment, Dick broke down. He allowed his knees to buckle and he kneeled on the wet earth, his grief emerging to engulf him. He slipped into a sitting position, crying out the injustice of it all. Rage filled him again, and he pounded his fists on the stone surface to the point where his hands were becoming bruised. His mind was in turmoil, reliving the moment his parents died. Though Zucco was gone and he had a hand in capturing him, he could never bring his parents back.

"WHY! WHY DID YOU KILL THEM!" Dick screamed. "I NEED YOU!" He cried out. "WHY, WHY THEM! THEY NEVER HURT ANYONE! THEY LOVED ME! FATHER, MOTHER! I NEED YOU!"

He curled up on the ground burying his face in his arms, pouring out his grief, not caring that his clothes were soaked through to the skin. He cried, until he could cry no more then he fell asleep and dreamed. He dreamed of his life with his parents, reliving those moments that shaped him, recalling them through the photos he had seen in the album.

"John, what do you think you're doing?" Mary exclaimed.

Mary Grayson watched as her husband climbed the ladder up to the platform where their trapeze had been anchored. Nestled in his arms was their newborn son, just a week old. She watched as John loosened the larger heavier bar and sat down, letting it swing out over the ring, making certain his small bundle was secure in one arm and his hand firmly gripped the other rope on the trapeze.

"I want my little Robin to know this will be his life," John shouted down toward his wife as he swung the trapeze, rocking his son. "This way, he will never be afraid. My father did it with me, and my grandfather did it with my father. He will be the greatest flier the world will ever see!"

"John your crazy," Mary laughed then shook her head. "Then I better get a picture so if your son asks one day, you can tell him."

Another image came through, he and his father looking at another photo album. It was one of those quiet moments that his mother captured. He was five years old.

"Who is that?" Dick asked.

"That is your grandfather, Thomas Percy Grayson when he was a boy, and that is your great-grandfather, Percy John Grayson. He came over from England. Our last name comes from Old English, meaning son of the gray haired."

Dick's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at his father. "I don't see any gray hair."

John Grayson chuckled. "Not yet, but you will some day."

"We came from England?" Dick asked, returning to the conversation about his family tree.

"Yes, at least your great-grandfather did. When Queen Victoria died, the Crown had no more use for us. The King at that time did not like entertainers."

"I don't understand," Dick said.

"Our family used to perform for the crown. In fact, it was that way for many generations. At least 300 years. We were acrobats and entertainers for the royal house. Our ancestors would travel throughout England, Scotland, and Wales, but when you were asked to perform for the Crown, it was a command performance."

"Can I perform for the Crown?"

"No, those days are long gone, but you will be performing very soon, after you've had more practice doing your flips. We want you to be the best."

A third image came to him, this time of a woman who was his teacher when they would travel. The photo he had seen was of him and his teacher sitting together as she instructed him in her native language. She was the gypsy woman who read people's fortunes on the midway. Her name was Sasha.

"Repeat after me, flier, zburator," Sasha said. "Mother, mama, father, tatal.'

"How do you say, I love you in Romani?" Dick asked.

"TE ibusc."

He learned to speak Romani that year, and to speak it fluently. Whenever he would see Sasha, they would converse in Romani. The images faded, when a clap of thunder woke him from his dreams and the rain poured down harder. The only shelter was under the two trees. He started coughing, his chest feeling heavy with congestion that suddenly took over without warning. He would have to find shelter soon, but he was too tired to leave so he curled up under the trees and fell asleep once more, but even under the trees the rain continued to pour. The trees gave some protection, but in his sodden clothes it really didn't matter.

Dick gave a sigh as he looked back at his parents' tombstone. He really didn't know what he was going to do. He wanted to see them so badly, but that was impossible. And now his clothes were waterlogged and eventually, he would have to return to Wayne Manor and explain his disappearance, but not just yet. His eyes were getting heavy and he lay his head down on his arms once again and fell sleep, this time, he didn't wake. As the storm raged on, the fever in his body took hold and Dick Grayson slipped into the shadowy world of delirium. He wasn't even aware of the hand that turned his face upward and the palm that touched his forehead. He was even oblivious of the strong arms that picked him up and carried him away, away from under the sodden tree and away from his parents' graves.

Continues with Part 5


	5. Chapter 5

In Need Of . . .

By AJ

. . . A Father

Part 5

Last Night 7:00 PM:

"Master Richard, dinner is served," Alfred announced, but no acknowledgement came. Alfred walked upstairs to Dick's room, but didn't find him. He noticed all the items on the floor, but didn't really pay much attention. All he was aware of was that Dick Grayson wasn't in his room.

'Perhaps he is in the bat cave,' he thought. Alfred went down stairs and took the service elevator to the cave.

"Master Richard?" Alfred called, but there was no answer there as well.

Where could he be? Alfred swiftly checked every room in the Manor, knocking on bathroom doors just in case Richard Grayson was indisposed. He rechecked Dick's private bathroom, but the boy was nowhere to be found. Then he checked the bat cave one more time, this time going through each of the areas, the medical bay, the trophy room, the science lab, and back in the main communications room, nothing. Alfred searched for two hours, even searching the grounds, but there was no sign of Dick Grayson. Using his skills as a trained operative, Alfred checked for any signs that a car had come and picked up the child, but there were no fresh tire tracks. He went back into the house then checked Dick's room again. He checked Dick's desk and noticed on his calendar there were two dates circled right next to each other. They obviously had some significance in Dick's life, but he wasn't certain. He noticed the colorful acrobatic clothing lying out on the floor next to the box he received from the Haly Circus, and then it hit him, the significance of one of those dates. He then noticed that Dick's backpack was missing. He wouldn't go there, especially on his own, or would he?

'I must find out,' Alfred said to himself. Alfred went down stairs and grabbed his chauffeur's hat and coat. He went to the garage and took the smaller Bentley and headed to Newtown. Alfred kept an eye out along the road, but saw nothing. It was just too dark. Within 30 minutes, he arrived on the edge of Newtown. He remembered where the Grayson's were buried and headed straight for the cemetery, but the gates were shut. He then thought that if the lad was still on foot, he might still catch him along the road going back to the Manor. No such luck. Arriving back at the Manor, Alfred returned the car to the garage. Not knowing what else to do, he waited. He should have called the police, but he didn't want to alert any reporters that the ward of Bruce Wayne was missing. Heartsick, he did the only thing he could do, make some tea, and wait for the Master to return home.

"Alfred? Have you been up all night?" Bruce gently woke his faithful butler after finding him sitting in one of the winged back chairs asleep.

"Master Bruce, you're finally home. And you are soaked."

"Yeah, it's raining cats and dogs out there. Sorry Alfred. I would have been home sooner, but you know, playing the part of a playboy has its quirks. And I forgot my umbrella," Bruce yawned. "Were you waiting up for me? There's no need."

"I'm afraid there is, Sir."

"What could be so urgent that you had to wait up for me? If it was urgent you should have called."

"You did not leave a number where you could be reached."

"Point taken," Bruce said, "So, what's the problem?"

"It's Master Dick, Sir. He's gone. I've looked everywhere."

The sudden news of Dick Grayson's disappearance woke Bruce from his complacency. "Tell me what happened."

"I was making dinner," Alfred explained. "It was ready at 7:00, when I called him. He did not answer. I went to his room. He wasn't there. I went to the bat cave. He wasn't there either. I checked everywhere, Master Bruce, even outside. He is nowhere to be found. I went back to his room to see if there were any clues that might help me to find him. Two dates on his calendar were circled."

"Two dates?" Bruce asked

"Yes, I realized what the first date was and I went looking for Master Dick, but I did not find him."

"Alfred, what are the two dates? You haven't told me."

"I do not know what the second date means, but I think the first date is when his parents were . . ."

Without letting Alfred finish, Bruce raced up the stairs to Dick's room. He saw the open box and all the items on the floor. His scrutinized the room, not missing a thing. He went over to the desk and saw the two dates that were marked. Today was the first date. He then looked at the items on the floor and recognized the costume that he was wearing on that fateful day. He also saw an open photo album. He picked it up and started flipping through it. The first page caught his eye and he realized what the second date meant. Poor kid, to have them die just before an all-important date like that, but where would Dick Grayson go? Then it hit him.

"Alfred, did Dick head to Newtown, to the cemetery?"

"Yes, I went there, but I didn't see him. Of course it was very late, and the gates were locked. And I did not see him along the road."

"That's because Dick wouldn't dare walk along the road," Bruce said. "He wouldn't want to be seen. Someone might pick him up."

The phone rang at that moment. Bruce raced downstairs to get the phone.

"Hello."

"Mr. Wayne?"

"This is Mr. Wayne."

"I think you may have lost something, very careless of you," the voice said.

"Who is this?"

"My name is not important. What I have is," the man said. "Your Ward."

"Who is this?" Bruce asked again.

"I told you my name is not important. You want your ward back? Then you need to do exactly as I say. You will hear from me later."

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Bruce replaced the receiver in its cradle. Without another word, he raced to the bat cave, changed into Batman, climbed into the batmobile, and head out the cave. He would be in Newtown in less than 20 minutes. He got there, just as a hearse was leaving. He knew exactly where he was going. He parked the batmobile and climbed out and walked to the headstone that belonged to Mary and John Grayson despite the rain. He was careful not to step in front, but sat on the side. He looked closely at the grass and could barely make out where someone had been sitting. The rain had almost obliterated all the evidence. He examined the stone surface and could see flakes of skin still clinging to the surface even though the rain threatened to wash it away. Dick must have pounded his fist against the stone. What happened after that?

Batman looked around and he spotted something under the two trees that were near by. It was Dick's backpack. Contained inside were his flashlight and his compass, a computer card, and not much else. Dick had come to the cemetery to visit his parents' grave site. Batman examined the ground where he found the backpack and discovered that Dick must have laid down to sleep. There was no evidence of a struggle. So, whoever took Dick must have taken him when he was asleep, but who had him and why?

Continues with Part 6


	6. Chapter 6

In Need Of . . .

By AJ

. . . A Father

Part 6

Batman returned to find Alfred in the cave waiting for him. He had a change of clothes and a towel ready for Bruce once he changed out of his Batman uniform.

"Did you find anything, Master Bruce?"

"It looks like Dick had been there earlier. I found minute skin samples on the stonework of the marker. He must have pounded his fists on that stone hard enough to bruise his hands. I also found his backpack. It's soaking wet. There had been a car that stopped in front of the grave site. There wasn't any sign of a struggle. Dick may have fallen asleep and they just picked him up off the ground."

Alfred could hear the sound of guilt in Bruce's voice.

"Why didn't I see this?"

"You and the boy have been busy," Alfred pointed out. "You are trying to keep your father's investments running along with the Wayne Foundation, as well as putting up appearances as a playboy. At your direction, Master Richard has been training, studying the subjects you gave him, and attending school. And for your information, he received all A+s on his final report card, which I signed for you."

"I haven't been around very much," Bruce admitted, sheepishly. "I've never had to deal with a child before."

"Master Bruce, may I make an observation," Alfred said. "You have been training Master Richard, that is correct, but the boy lately has needed more than just a friend, more than just a mentor. He needs more than just Batman. He needs a father."

"I know, but the courts didn't allow me to adopt him, and when I thought about it, I don't know if he would even want me to. The memory of his parents' deaths is too strong."

"Would you wish him to forget his parents?"

"No," Bruce said adamantly. "I just thought . . ."

"How do you really feel about the boy, Sir?" Alfred asked.

Bruce didn't answer.

"I thought as much," Alfred turned his back. "I shall begin packing his things so he may find a suitable home to live a more normal life."

"WAIT, I . . . I won't have it. I'm his guardian, and I won't let you decide his fate."

Alfred turned back. "Then you better begin to see the boy in a different light, and your own role as well."

Bruce knew that Alfred was right, but he had one major unanswered question. "Alfred, I know today is the day his parents died. And tomorrow . . .Why did he leave?"

"That I cannot say. Only Master Richard can explain. Exploring his room may give you some of the answers that you seek."

Bruce's eye narrowed. What did Alfred know that he didn't? What was it that Alfred saw that he had failed to see? Sometimes it felt like Alfred was more the detective than he was. He also forgot that there was more to Alfred than just being a butler. There was one thing that Alfred had pointed out that he needed to face. What were his feelings toward the boy, and why did he become his guardian? Not only that, why did he want to adopt him in the first place? Was it because of what happened that night at the circus? Was it just their common experience? Or was there something more? What did he see in this boy? And yet, why of all things was he trying to avoid it now that the boy was living in this house?

Bruce went up to Dick's room and looked around once more. He went over to the items on the floor one more time, trying to understand what drove Dick to leave without saying a word. Perhaps the photo album might give him some clues. He opened to the first page, seeing the announcement of Richard John Grayson's birth. He realized that tomorrow was Dick's birthday. Coupled with the combination of his parents' death being on the day before . . . Was that the reason? As he continued to view the album Bruce saw things that he had not seen before, even for himself. He saw a family that had been very loving, a family that radiated joy. Thinking about Dick's family brought memories of his own family when his parents were alive. Bruce remembered how his parents were, busy, his mother always doing charity work, his father being in charge of Gotham Memorial Hospital, but not spending the quality time their son needed, at least not as often as he would have liked. Oh, there were moments, and they loved him, in their own way, but it wasn't enough. And when they finally got that time together, it would end up being the last time. Tears filled Bruce's eyes as he saw what he never really had, a happy family. His heart ached for . . . what he longed for . . . what Dick had more than anything. He could not put it into words, not yet . . . and certainly not without the one person who needed to hear it. Bruce stared at the photo showing Dick Grayson and his father . . . What was his name John? He remembered the flakes of skin left behind on the grave stone, echoes of Bruce's own rage filled heart when his parents had been murdered and buried. The photo glared at Bruce, reminding him once again what he had been lacking. Why had he tried to adopt the boy? Because he didn't want Dick to suffer the pain that he had suffered? Or was there something more.

"You are treating him the same way I treated you," his father's words echoed in his mind as John Grayson's face morphed into Thomas Wayne's face. "Do you even love him?" the words were accusatory. "You are only with the boy to train him. Is that what you truly want? Do not make the same mistakes I made with you. Don't be afraid to love the boy for who he is. Be a father to him more than I was to you. I did love you, my son, even though you may not know it. And I am proud of you."

Thomas Wayne suddenly vanished as the sound of footsteps could be heard on the floor outside Dick Grayson's room.

"Master Bruce, a note as arrived. It is addressed to you."

Bruce put down the photo album as Alfred handed him the note and Bruce opened it.

"Bring 10 Million Dollars to the Gotham Tower Clock before the stroke of midnight or your little friend will take his last flight and meet his Mommy and Daddy personally. Revenge for my brother's death. Ralph Zucco."

"NO!" Bruce exclaimed.

"Master Bruce?"

Bruce didn't answer as he handed Alfred back the note.

Alfred read the note and his face became pale. He said a silent prayer as Bruce raced down the stairs to the study and down to the bat cave.

Batman emerged and raced to the batmobile and out the cave entrance. He had to get to Dick before anything else happened. He lost his parents. He wasn't going to lose . . . a son. He was grateful for one thing. The kidnapper had made a big mistake. And Batman would be there to collect on it.

Continues with Part 7


	7. Chapter 7

In Need Of . . .

By AJ

. . . A Father

Part 7

The man who took Dick Grayson gave out a Cheshire Cat grin. He believed he had Bruce Wayne over a barrel. It would be his revenge for what happened to this brother, Tony Zucco. Even if Wayne didn't pay his ransom for the boy, he would still get his revenge, by making certain that Wayne never saw his boy ever again. The man climbed the steps to the top of the Gotham Tower Clock carrying the boy over his shoulder.

Dick started coughing and mumbling in his sleep. He was delirious. "No no no no. Don't leave me . . . Mom . . . Dad . . ."

"Remembering Mom and Dad kid? Well, too bad. My brother botched the job when he left you alive. In fact, you were supposed to die first. I buried my brother today, because of you. He died on death row. Saw you over by that large gravestone. Imagine my surprise when I saw that it was your folks buried at Robinson Cemetery. A most fortunate circumstance for me; kept me from having to search you out. Now you're going to pay the piper for sending my brother to prison and the electric chair."

Dick's foggy brain barely registered what the man was saying. "Who . . . What . . .Where . . ." Dick started coughing, his chest tight from fear and hurting from being carried. He tried to struggle, but he had no strength.

"Who am I? Ralph Zucco. Tony Zucco was my brother and I'm your worst nightmare. Go back to sleep kid, you're dreaming."

Ralph Zucco carried Dick up through the tower. He entered the clock tower room then placed Dick Grayson in a most precarious position, right on the narrow base of the carrousel between two of the three figures.

"Uhh, *cough, cough, cough*," Dick moaned and continued to cough, the fever once again taking hold and plunging him into that shadowy world of the semi-conscious dream state. He tried to move, but he didn't seem to have the strength from where he was laying. He watched through half lidded eyes as the man called Ralph Zucco paced the room.

Ralph Zucco couldn't wait. Midnight was approaching. He walked around the clock examining its mechanism. This particular clock had a special set of chimes and a carrousel containing three figures. As the clock would strike the hour, the bells rang out and the figures on the carrousel would start to move. The carrousel's base was triangular in shape and very narrow, just wide enough for a body to lay on it. Inside the room, there was no need for precautions. The room was large enough so repairs could to be done to the clock's mechanism. Outside, one false move and a person could fall. It was the perfect place to send someone plunging to their death without any witnesses. There was barely a minute left as he waited. It wouldn't be long until his revenge for his brother's death would be complete.

"Too bad you're asleep," Ralph Zucco said to Dick as he checked him one more time. "I'd love to see the look on your face when you find yourself falling 15 stories to the ground. It will be the last flight you ever take."

"Not if I can help it."

"What?" Ralph Zucco looked up into the darkened rafters.

Batman jumped down at that moment landing in front of the thug.

"Come any closer and I'll dump the kid," Ralph Zucco said.

The clock's hands moved toward the hour of midnight. The chimes began ringing and the carrousel started to move. It was just what Batman needed to distract him.

"You let him fall, so help me I'll hunt you down."

Zucco reached to grab Dick Grayson to drag him to the opening and at the same time Batman grabbed a large wrench on a nearby workbench and tossed it in Ralph Zucco's direction. The thug tried to avoid being hit with the wrench. It clattered to the floor up against one of the metal frames of the carrousel. Zucco then rushed Batman to buy himself some time to allow the carrousel to move in position. Batman struck him as Zucco came in close forcing him back. Zucco tripped on the wrench almost landing on the prone figure of Dick Grayson as the carrousel moved closer to the outside. Dick in his fevered state started tossing around. Oddly enough, it was as if Dick sensed the danger and in desperation, he grabbed Ralph Zucco and tossed him toward the figure of the blacksmith. The move was one of the grappling moves that Bruce had been teaching Dick. Despite his feverish state, Dick caused Ralph Zucco to crash into the blacksmith's anvil. The force knocked the thug unconscious. Dick fell back exhausted, his chest heaving and he started coughing again. Turning over on his side, his body half on the frame of the carrousel, half off, he feet dragging on the floor, he once again slipped into that semi-conscious world.

Batman rushed up to the prone figure of his partner and lifted him from the moving carrousel before his body would be crushed between the outside wall and the frame. He gently laid Dick on the floor of the tower room, feeling Dick's fevered body. Batman had to do one thing to ensure that Ralph Zucco didn't get away. He pulled out a pair of bat cuffs and secured him to one of the support posts of the tower room. Then he gently picked Dick Grayson up holding him close to his chest, not wanting to let him go.

"I've got you."

"Dad," Dick murmured then snuggled closer. "I . . . missed you."

"It's okay, son," Batman said. "You're safe." Dick seemed to require that reassurance.

Batman could feel the fever, even through his light kelvar shirt. He quickly moved down the tower stairs to the batmobile and placed Dick on the passenger seat. He pulled out a blanket and covered his ward with it to keep him warm from the night air. He climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine and moved out.

"Don't worry old chum, we'll get you home. That's as close as I ever want to come to losing you," he said. Batman picked up the portable bat phone in the batmobile and called Commissioner Gordon. "I apologize for the lateness of the hour, Commissioner. There's a package waiting for you at the top of Gotham Tower Clock. See to it that he serves time . . . in prison for the kidnapping of Dick Grayson. I will fill you in on the details in the morning. I am returning Bruce Wayne's ward to him."

XXXX

The fever finally broke two days later. Dick's eyes fluttered open to find his guardian, Bruce Wayne sleeping in a chair by his bed.

"Bruce?"

Alfred came in at that moment and brought a tray of tea and a thermometer. "Open your mouth."

Dick did as he was told, but he could not help asking about Bruce. "Wuuhy ith he thleeping. . ."

"Keep your mouth closed so I can get a reading, Master Dick," Alfred interrupted with a frown.

Dick shut his mouth and after four minutes, Alfred removed the thermometer. "Your temperature is down, it's 100, but you still need to stay in bed until that temperature is normal."

"Awe. I'm feeling better . . . and I'm hungry."

"I shall bring you some toast."

"Alfred, I had the weirdest dream. I dreamed someone kidnapped me. And then I was in this strange room . . ." then Dick remembered his excursion to his parents' grave and he looked over at Alfred's face. "It wasn't a dream . . . was it?"

"No, Master Dick. And once Master Bruce is awake, you do have a lot of explaining to do."

"Can't I tell you and you can tell Bruce?"

"Tell me what?" Bruce woke right at that moment as Alfred left the room.

"Um . . ." Dick started. "I . . . I'm sorry for running away."

"Why did you?" Bruce knew in his own way, but he wanted to hear it from Dick.

"It's been a year since my parents . . . I wanted to . . . say goodbye . . . And well . . . I know I said I didn't want a father . . . " Dick turned his head away trying to hide the tears. "But I . . . I really . . . I didn't know if . . . if you'd catch . . . Catch me when I fall."

"Dick, you don't have to say anything more. I should be the one to apologize to you. I took your words seriously and at face value. When in truth, we often say things we don't really mean in times of extreme stress. I know you loved your parents very much. I could never replace them, but I learned some things while you were gone. I learned even a ward needs a father figure. I think we need to start over. So, if you'll have me, I'll do my best to be that father figure."

"Really?" Dick asked, his eyes growing wide and his heart filling with hope. "You mean . . . you'll catch me when I fall?"

"Of course I'll catch you when you fall. I nearly lost you two nights ago. I'll always be there when you need me," Bruce nodded. "I can't promise that I won't screw up every now and then, but if you'll have me . . ."

"You bet, Bruce," Dick flung himself into Bruce's arms, hugging him tight. "Can you tell me one thing? Did Batman save me from some guy that looked like Zucco or was I dreaming?"

Bruce debated about telling Dick the truth. He didn't want to scare the lad, but he did deserve to know just the same. "Batman did save you, and it wasn't a dream. Now, you better get back into bed before Alfred has a fit."

"Can you read to me?" Dick asked.

"What do you want me to read?"

"Robin Hood."

"Coming right up." Bruce moved to the bookshelf and pulled the old worn out book from its resting place. A memory of his father came to him when he was a boy of seven. "Read me Robin Hood, Daddy."

"I've read you that book five times now," Thomas Wayne said.

"I know, but I love it when he helps all the poor people," young Bruce said. "And when he defeats the Sheriff."

"All right. Settle down in the bed and let me find the book."

With the book in hand, Bruce turned back to where Dick waited. There was a large grin on his face and a twinkle in his bright blue eyes. It was the same look that he would have on his face when his father would read to him.

'Like father like son,' he thought.

Bruce moved to the chair next to the bed, and opened the book to the first page.

"In merry England in the time of old, when good King Henry the Second ruled the land, there lived within the green glades of Sherwood Forest, near Nottingham Town, a famous outlaw whose name was Robin Hood . . ."

XXXX

A month later, Bruce drove Dick to Newtown. They headed to Robinson cemetery and Bruce parked in front of the Grayson grave stone. They got out of the car and silently stood in front of the marker. When Dick was ready, he placed a large bouquet of flowers at the base.

"I'll be over here, under the trees so you can have some privacy," Bruce said.

Dick nodded and Bruce moved under the trees, keeping Dick in his sights.

"Mom, Dad, I miss you so much, but I'm learning to . . ." Dick drew in a sigh and a tear tracked down his cheek. "Maybe I should begin by telling you about my guardian. His name's Bruce Wayne. He has a butler named Alfred. You'd like Bruce. He's an orphan, too . . ."

End


End file.
